Shopboy
by Winterblume
Summary: Tom's wasting away working for Borgin and Burkes and Hermione brings him a birthday present - Written for the Happy Birthday Challenge in the Gutter City Tomione Forum


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N: I hope you all didn't forget that soon it's Tom's birthday. To celebrate this I wrote this drabble. It's part of the Happy Birthday Challenge in the Gutter City Tomione Forum :D **

**Have a nice New Year's Eve and a Happy New Year!**

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**Shopboy**

Hermione strolled into Borgin and Burkes. As usual it was stuffy, dark and full of questionable magical objects. She crinkled her nose in disapproval and stepped over to the counter. Bored look on his handsome face, Riddle lazily flipped through an old book.

"Hi," Hermione greeted the dark wizard.

Riddle glanced up and instantly an irritated look crossed his face. "Granger."

She grinned toothily. "How's it going, shopboy?"

That didn't brighten Riddle's mood at all and he ordered acridly, "Leave."

"How rude," she tutted. "You'll never sell anything with that attitude."

Riddle's eyes screamed murder at her and he threatened, "Next time I catch you alone, you'll regret this, Granger."

Hermione shrugged, unconcerned. "Yeah, yeah."

She fiddled with a voodoo doll that lay on the counter and peered at Riddle. He still glared at her lethally. Hermione smiled at him which painted a suspicious frown on his forehead.

"I got something for you."

"What?" the Slytherin heir snapped. "A piercing headache?"

Hermione ignored the vitriol and pulled a box from her robe pocket. Carefully, she put it in front of Riddle.

"Happy birthday."

Riddle just looked at the bright red present with his startlingly grey eyes. "What is that?"

Hermione laughed at the confused expression on his face. "A present. Go on. Open it."

The wizard threw her a mistrustful look and waved his wand over the box, searching for any traps. Of course he found nothing. Reluctantly, he unwrapped the present.

"How do you know that it's my birthday today?" he harshly demanded to know, not looking at her.

Hermione clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "No interrogations. Not today."

Finally Riddle had unwrapped it and blinked down at the opened box. Then he raised his gaze at her and his only comment was an indignant,

"Why?"

Hermione sniggered. She stepped closer and angled the little figure out of the box. It was a tin wind-up toy in the form of a witch, complete with black cat, broom, wart on her nose and evil smile.

"I saw it and thought of you," Hermione told Riddle amusedly.

Riddle's magic crackled angrily in the air. "You saw Muggle garbage and thought of me?"

The dark wizard was certainly scary, but Hermione couldn't help it and snorted with laughter. She held the tiny witch up and explained, "You turn it here and then..."

She put the toy down on the counter. The witch started to whirr around on the little wheels hidden under her broom. Hermione grinned.

"Voila." She looked up at Riddle, widening her eyes dramatically. "It's like magic."

The wizard stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"I hate you." It sounded heartfelt.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and drawled, "Oh, you make me blush with all your compliments." Then she dropped the sarcasm and smiled at him gently. "Anyway… Happy Birthday, Riddle."

Not waiting for his caustic reply, Hermione turned around and left Borgin and Burkes behind.

.

Riddle watched the silly witch as she skipped out of the shop. The door fell shut behind her, the bells jingling annoyingly. Feeling utterly disgusted, Riddle glowered at the tin toy lying on the counter. Angrily, he gritted his teeth. _Stupid Muggle toy_. How _dare_ she give him something like this? His gaze wandered back to the door through which Hermione had just left.

Riddle hesitated before he picked up the toy and, despite his urge to throw it against the wall, he carefully slipped it into his robe pocket.

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